


To Remain Silent

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-28
Updated: 2006-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:19:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>In the still of the courthouse before opening, only his moans could be heard...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	To Remain Silent

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://loveathons.livejournal.com/profile)[**loveathons**](http://loveathons.livejournal.com/) courtroom smut challenge. Set in the ["Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgotten" Verse](http://community.livejournal.com/kantayra_fic/tag/auld+acquaintance).

Logan had never been in a courtroom before the building had officially opened for ‘business’, such as it was, for the day. He’d never really thought about what it would be like. How eerily quiet and empty the place would be. Banging gavels and angry attorneys and even angrier clients seemed creatures of an entirely different universe this early in the morning. Instead, only the occasional shuffle of a janitor’s footsteps outside the door and whir of the air-conditioning interrupted the absolute silence of this place.

It all gave him far too much time to think.

The lights were still dimmed, and it made the bench, the stand, the tables, the pews all look like looming, foreboding shadows in the darkness. Logan had never really been early for much of anything in his life, but this one time his nerves had gotten the better of him. And, after a night of tossing and turning anxiously, he’d finally gotten up in the predawn hours and come here. The guard on duty was an old friend of Cliff’s and had seen no harm in letting Logan wait inside. He’d probably felt sorry for the poor, nervous kid. And going in had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Now Logan realized that it was just making all his insecurities and fears boil closer to the surface.

“Remind me to always be fashionably late in the future,” he announced to no one and everyone in the echoing expanse of the courtroom.

Or maybe not _quite_ no one because, while Logan would have sworn he was alone only a few seconds ago, it didn’t surprise him to hear the soft rustle of clothing near the door, silent but firm footsteps heading towards the back corner in which he sat. Maybe it was a sixth sense, or a statistical certainty, or he really just knew her _that_ well. Because she hadn’t made a sound opening and closing the door, yet his words had been meant for her. There was that certain smart-mouthed edge to them that he always lavished upon her, whether she liked it or not.

“Fashionably late and drunk off your ass?” she suggested, sounding less than amused. But she sat down on the hard oak bench beside him nonetheless.

“I considered it, believe you me.” He sighed overdramatically, with some wistfulness. “Alas, I wouldn’t want to disappoint my public.”

“Since when has ‘your public’ ever been disappointed by public drunken displays?” she asked lightly, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

He was smiling too now. “‘Logan Echolls: Gone Wild In The Courthouse’,” he spread his hands outwards before him, quick, flitting outlines of fingers against the darker blackness of the wood of the bench, displaying the hypothetical headline to them both. “Oh, the paparazzi would just _love_ me for that one…”

“And we all know how much you love to do the paparazzi favors…”

“I can _never_ fully express my heartfelt warmth for that profession,” he retorted.

She let out a short laugh. “All right, so I get why you laid off the liquor,” she agreed.

Logan sighed and leaned back, staring up at the dim white shape of the ceiling. “Heaven help me…”

They sat together in a deep, rich silence for a moment before Veronica’s hand finally reached over to brush against his. “Are you okay?” Her whisper was unnecessarily, reverently hushed.

He started at her touch, a silly thing really, but the sudden warmth and comfort were almost more than he could handle just then. But somehow he found the strength to calm himself, to reach back and recover her touch. And, really, it wasn’t like it was a hardship or anything…

“You’ll kick the defense’s ass,” she assured him with quiet confidence. Her fingers slid between his slowly, organically, almost like the two of them were growing together, becoming one being with shared strength and purpose.

He let out a hollow, almost empty laugh. “Tell me that afterwards, when I can appreciate it.”

She waited through a pregnant pause. “What? No innuendo?”

“Ask me again when I don’t feel like I’m about to throw up.”

“The same retort twice in a row? You really _are_ hung up about this.” Her tone was light, but hints of genuine concern leaked through. Her hand squeezed his once, before moving in closer, brushing his hip just casually at first, a sudden burst of warmth, before settling firmly against his thigh. Not quite erotic, but enough to turn his thoughts firmly in that direction.

He gulped audibly in the dark, and she tightened her grip on his leg for one moment, before relaxing again, soothing away the tension from all throughout his body. Well, everywhere except for the part only a few inches north of her fingertips.

“You can do this,” she promised him.

“Well, golly gee, Veronica. If you say it’s so, then it’s as good as done.” His tone was probably a bit harsher than it should be, given that she was trying to help him out.

“Don’t try to get smart on me now.” Her voice sounded amused, indulgent like one would be of a particularly impish child. The circles her hand was rubbing into his thigh was anything but juvenile, however.

“I _have_ to be smart,” he reminded her. “That’s kind of the point. To outsmart the defense.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t waste any of those rare brain cells you’ve got floating around in that pretty little head of yours,” she retorted, her voice a perfect balance of sarcasm and faux-perkiness.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he demanded indulgently.

“Oh?” The hand on his thigh stilled for a moment.

“You’re trying to distract me with arguing,” he accused.

“Actually,” her thumb flicked upwards abruptly, drawing a gasp from his throat, “I’m trying to distract you with _sex_.”

“There’s a difference?”

She grinned. “For us? Not so much.”

Well, if she wasn’t going to fight about _that_ , there were always other tactics… “You call this sex?” he retorted, outwardly defiant but inwardly he was breaking at the sensation of her hot little fingers just _barely_ brushing the line of his erection.

He felt her move and looked over at her for the first time. He swore he could see something spark in her eyes, even in the dark. Veronica Mars never could back down from a challenge. “Hmm…” she considered carefully, methodically, before her hand moved a few inches up his thigh, her fingers dragging up the full length of him before her hand came to rest in the curve of his hipbone. “Is _this_ sex yet?” she asked with perfect, coy innocence.

“C’mon, Mars, you know better than that,” he managed to growl out amidst the ghosting torture of her touch.

His eyes were closed, but he could _feel_ her entire body move closer, like he could feel, lying out on the beach, when the clouds covering the sun parted. His entire body warmed in response, impossibly, hopelessly, permanently attracted. “How’s… _this_?” The lightest brush of her hand suddenly turned hard and solid, her tiny hand gripping his cock through his pants. The thin fabric did _nothing_ to protect him from the feel of Veronica’s touch.

“ _Fuck_!” His cry seemed to echo endlessly through the empty courtroom.

“Shh,” she whispered, right next to his ear, her body pressed against his side. “Unless you want Don the night janitor to come in and stop me…”

“Threesome?” Logan quirked an eyebrow at her in the dark. “Why, Mars, I had no clue you were so kinky…”

“A threesome’s kinky?” she retorted. “Why, Echolls, I had no clue you were so… _vanilla_ …” Her fingers found the buckle of his belt, fumbled for a moment and then pulled the clasp free.

He bit his lip instead of crying out this time, and she offered him a sarcastic “good boy,” before slipping her fingers inside his suit pants and…

The lights flicked on and the door opened.

“Hi, Andy!” Veronica offered the bailiff a bright smile as her hand finally encircled him, hot flesh on hot flesh. “Don said it was okay if we waited inside.”

Of _course_ , Veronica would know everyone at the courthouse. And be enough of a sneaky, underhanded vixen that she could wave innocently with one hand and squeeze his cock hard and tight with the other.

“Not a prob, Mars,” the bailiff, whom Logan could only assume was named Andy, answered. “Mr. Echolls.”

Logan managed a nod right as Veronica’s thumb finally found the very tip of him and brushed across his most sensitive flesh. He was so very glad of his decision not to try to actually talk in response to the bailiff; no _way_ would he have been able to keep his voice from betraying him.

“So, remember,” Veronica commented conversationally, as if they weren’t doing anything but having a friendly chat, “make eye contact, don’t snarl, and try not to lose your temper. Smart mouth is good. Fistfight? Bad.”

Her hand was pumping up and down on him fast and furious now. As the court stenographer – Jenny, Logan thought – came in and passed their aisle, Veronica neatly pulled Logan’s briefcase up and over his lap, concealing certain portions of his anatomy that were having the time of their lives from general view.

“Thanks for the helpful tips, honeybunch,” Logan managed to sound almost calm, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Always happy to help!” she offered brightly, her eyes dark and evil as she gnawed on her lower lip mischievously. Oh, she was enjoying doing this to him so very much…

Teeth gritted, he leaned in and gave her the sweetest, politest, most chaste of kisses. “I’ll get you back for this tonight,” he hissed against her lips.

She murmured and pulled on him in a short, erratic jerk. “You’d _better_ ,” she retorted, whispering as well. A final twist of her palm and she slid up and around him, and his entire body tensed, tightened into one impossible pinpoint of pleasure – “Shh!” she reminded him as his mouth opened into a shout and, in response, clamped shut again – and then he released into her hand with a shuddering gasp. “There, there,” she patted him on the back placatingly like he was just _anxious_ , while offering Jenny an apologetic smile.

If he hadn’t been so looped up on endorphins at the moment, he would have had to kill her for that one.

He let out a long, slow breath of relief against her neck, and he felt her sigh and shiver in response. Little goosebumps were rising on her flesh, despite the warmth of his breath. Desire.

“I woke up this morning alone,” Veronica whispered to him as the first gaggle of lawyers entered the room, chatting amongst themselves. One cast a semi-disdainful look in Logan’s direction before turning away again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured back. “I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you…”

“If you’d woken me, we could have done _this_ ,” her fingers beat a quick staccato on his now softening dick, “in bed. At length.”

“And where would the adventure be in that?” he retorted with a grin.

“Fun, as in ‘in danger of being arrested for public lewdness while _in_ the courthouse’?” she countered, removing her hand reluctantly from his pants before surreptitiously wiping it clean with some tissues from her purse.

He winked at her. “There’s another definition of fun?” he asked innocently.

Veronica swatted him in the arm. “Jerk. Like it wasn’t hard enough to get you barred in the first place.”

“The ‘no felony _convictions_ ’ part helped,” he countered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Hey!” she protested. “I was only responsible for _one_ of those arrests. And I got you _two_ of the judges’ vouchers that got you into law school. I totally come out ahead.”

“And the fact that one of them had a felony conviction, too?”

“Only _after_ you got admitted!” she insisted. “I held off on releasing those tapes.”

“I can hear my Legal Ethics prof rolling in his grave as we speak,” he shot back.

“I caught his killer, so he’d _better_ shut up.” Veronica crossed her arms over her chest sullenly.

“And have I mentioned lately how sexy that was?” Logan breathed against her cheek.

She gulped, and his hand took the opportunity to slip under the hem of her skirt…

Of course, at that very moment, Andy just _had_ to announce that Judge Thompson was in and court was officially in session for the day. Logan made damn sure that he kept his briefcase fully in front of himself during all the standing parts. Even the _thought_ of feeling her up in front of all these people who had questioned and judged him – and her – in the past had him excited all over again. Minx.

“You know,” Veronica mumbled under her breath as Judge Thompson scrambled through the papers before her, getting ready for the day, “she looks oblivious enough that we could make out right on the witness stand, and she wouldn’t even notice.”

Logan gulped, long and hard.

“First Docket,” Andy called out. “Number 61352.”

“And that’s you,” Veronica reminded him with an evil grin. “See? Isn’t it so much easier when you don’t have any time to panic?”

His proposal for tortuous, brutal revenge was, unfortunately, hindered by courtroom procedure. He headed up to the front, and his ass got a nice swat as he went. Jenny the Stenographer looked thoroughly scandalized by the gesture. Logan was glad his big briefcase had concealed what they’d been doing earlier; old Jenny probably would have had a coronary in the middle of the aisle.

Veronica gave him a wink and a thumb’s up sign when he reached his spot and prepared to shoot off his big, loud mouth – to use her own words – to get bail denied for a wife-beating, gun-totting, drunken sleaze. First time before the judge and all.

And, of course, Veronica was right. He _totally_ kicked the defense’s ass.

He’d, clearly, have to make it up to her later. Say, by quelling her own nerves by hiding under her desk next week when she met with the board for her final layout review. He had a feeling that his tongue would be equally eloquent then as it had been today.

Only, next time, _she’d_ be the one who had to remain silent.


End file.
